


A Work In Progress

by orangeCrates



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:26:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4375385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangeCrates/pseuds/orangeCrates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The person who introduced the Holy Knight series to Gilbert was Oz.</p><p>The person who reminded him of its existence was Elliot.</p><p>The first time Gilbert kept the books for himself it was to remember a promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Work In Progress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meguri_aite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meguri_aite/gifts).



He started the books for Oz.

Back then, Oz was still reading the children's version he would later read to his sister. He had pulled the first book from the shelf and presented it to Gilbert like it was a treasure.

"I haven't shown you this book, yet, right?" Oz did not ask if Gilbert had ever read it. For all that Oz may act cheerful and carefree, he was also perceptive and kind (he would not ask someone with no memories if they had ever done something). He was already tugging Gilbert over to sit on the couch on the other side of the room, the book tucked under his arm, "You need to read it! You'll love it." He let go of Gilbert and dropped onto the couch, "You're my servant, after all." Gilbert wasn't eactly sure what that was supposed to mean and, back then, he shuffled awkwardly in place until Oz finally huffed a little then patted the space beside him. "Sit down here. We can't read the book together if you're so far away!"

"But I--" Whatever protest Gilbert was going to stage was interrupted by Oz reaching out and pulling him hard enough he stumbled a step.

"Sit!" He said, cheeks puffing out in mock anger and Gilbert did (because even from the beginning he could not have refused Oz anything). He kept what he hoped was a polite amount of distance between them, however, which by Gilbert's approximation should be at the other end of the couch. A servant shouldn't sit so close to his master, after all.

Oz was having none of it, however and with an exagerrated roll of his eyes scooted closer so they were pressed together on one side. He promptly ignored Gilbert's attempt to squeak out a protest and gently, almost reverently pulled the book open so it sat on both their laps.

Before he started to read, Oz tilted his head and grinned at Gilbert like he was sharing a secret, "Uncle Oscar is the best storyteller. We definitely need to get him to read this to us sometime." Then, Oz patted himself on the chest, "But I'm pretty good too, you know!"

"I'm sure you are, Oz-bocchan." The thing was, Gilbert didn't even say it sarcastically. He said it with such (shy) sincerity that Oz only beamed harder, cheeks slightly spotted with pleased, pink spots.

"Okay, let's start! This book is called--"

~ + ~ 

"--Holy Knight!"

Elliot's eyes were shining as he held up the newest volume of the series that he liked so much. "Have you read it before?"

And, in reply to that, Vincent only rolled his eyes. "You're such a kid, Elliot." He ignored Elliot's indignant 'hey!' to turn to Gilbert as if looking for agreement (he knew he wouldn't find any, but Vincent liked the way Elliot could bring a genuine and fond smile out of Gilbert. He just wanted to see his big brother smile) and found Gilbert staring like he'd see a ghost.

"Gil?" Vincent said at the same time Elliot frowned and said, "what's wrong?"

Gilbert made a sound, something choked and small as he brought a hand up to cover his mouth. He was shaking and, to Vincent's horror it looked like he was on the verge of _crying_. Vincent's mind went completely blank at the realization. He wasn't thinking at all when he whirls on Elliot. "What did you do?" It was panic making his voice sharp (because he doesn't know how to fix this! It's always been Gil who held his hand and reassured him it would be all right. Every time Vincent tries to help, he only makes things _worse_

"I--I didn't mean to--" Elliot clutched the book to his chest tightly and it was Gilbert who put a hand on Vincent's shoulder.

"Stop, Vince." Gilbert's voice was wet, but steady as he gives Vincent's shoulder one last squeeze before he kneels down in front of Elliot. "Do you like those books?"

Elliot paused, then nodded.

Gilbert managed a smile though it was thin and weak, existing more for other people's benefit than his own (it was the smile Vincent hated most), "will you read it with me?"

~ + ~

Later, when Vincent and Elliot had both gone to bed, Gilbert was still reading. He had asked to borrow the books from Elliot, beginning from where Oz had read up to before he--

(The memory still brought a fresh lance of pain. He hadn't been able to protect his master that day. That one accusation reverberated in his skull until his head was filled with nothing but guilt and the need to become _stronger_.)

He breathed in, slow and long, then gently, almost reverently (the way he had seen Oz do it countless number of times), opened the book.

It was not one of Oz's. Oz's books were all well worn from being read cover-to-cover over and over again as he waited patiently for the next book to come out. Countless hours of their lives were spent with Oz pointing out what might be the author's foreshadowing and trying to figure out which were red-herrings while Gilbert nodded to everything and hung onto his every word.

This book was also well worn (Elliot did not joke around when he loved or hated something. He committed himself entirely to one thing or not at all, with a passion that some days Gilbert envied), but the little things (like the way Oz dog-eared his favourite pages) were obviously missing to Gilbert who could easily have picked out which book had belonged to Oz out of a pile.

He thought (foolishly, perhaps) that if he read the story that they had shared together, if he just revisited the adventure and the characters they had spent countless late nights reading togeher, he might feel closer to Oz (even just a little). He thought that maybe, just maybe, it could fill the hole in his heart for a little while.

It did, in a way, but it was _painful_ because as close as Gilbert gets, it doesn't change the fact that Oz _wasn't here_ (or anywhere). When he remembers Oz's excited face and imagines what he might think of the developments he can see it so clearly that the pain and the longing were so visceral the pain they brought felt like a physical sensation.

One, then two dark spots appeared on the page as Gilbert read Edgar and Edwin's dialogue and remembered how Oz's favourite character had been faithful Edgar, the servant who supported and protected his master no matter what the cost. He thought, if he were half the servant Edgar was, maybe Oz would still be here.

~ + ~

In the aftermath, Gilbert only chose to take two things from the Vessalius House. One of them was Uncle Oscar's camera, the other was Oz's incomplete set of the Holy Knight books. He left the children's version with Ada (he could see her settling down and having children of her own one day, even if her eyes still looked impossibly sad and understanding every time the subject of Vincent came up).

He carefully shelved the set of books in his room at the Baskerville home and wonders if Leo had saved Elliot's set as well.

Gilbert fills in the gap in the series left by the owner's ten year absence (something he hadn't dared to do before because how could he present Oz with gifts that had been touched by his hands, filthy from what he had done during the ten years they had spent apart), but doesn't read them. The books were for Oz, and the honour of breaking their spines, of first opening their pages to read would be his, not Gilbert's. He filled the shelf as a reminder to himself of his promise to wait.

Vincent didn't ask about them, just as Gilbert doesn't ask about his hair cut. They were the same thing: their way of honouring and remembering the people that had irrevocably changed them, and neither of them needed to ask to know that. All Vincent does, is offer to help carry the books because it is difficult for Gilbert to manage with one arm.

Every morning, when Gilbert wakes up, the first thing he does, is stand in front of the bookshelf and trace the spines of the book, one after another without a single thought in his head. Sometimes, he will pull one of the worn books out and flip to a dog eared page and read it.

Then he would close it and slide it back into its place carefully.

He will wait to read the others. He will wait for as long as it takes.


End file.
